Pain of Loss
by Nika Dixon
Summary: Jen makes a painful admission, and together they have to deal with the consequences. R/K hurt/comfort. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**For Mel.**

**Because I can not imagine how much your heart aches.**

**

* * *

  
**

Tasting the salty bite of the ocean spray on her tongue, Jen concentrated on keeping her breathing even, her pace steady. The quiet rhythm of her sneakers on the smooth surface of the barren north-west pier kept time with her heart, which pounded behind her ribs with a steady thump-thump-thump.

She leaned slightly to her right, fighting the push of the wind with her shoulder as it gusted, unblocked, across the wide expanse of flat metal.

The long section of the pier between the storage towers and the unexplored buildings at the far end was known as the wind-tunnel, and today it was living up to its name.

Spray kicked up off the wildly churning ocean with a hissing crush, misting the entire surface – Jen included. She shook her head with a snort and kept moving, her heated skin chilling under the shower of salty water. The sky overhead swirled with an overcast warning – the dark grey clouds complimenting her mood.

Reaching the edge of the landing she jogged in place for a few minutes, staring out over the white capped ocean. It was lonely here. Quiet and solitary. No one to talk to, no one to talk at her, and no one to care. A lone sea bird called out, and she looked up, watching the large wingspan circle in the strong wind before disappearing out across the ocean. She drew her head down and shook away the ghost. Not even the birds were willing to keep her company any more.

With a sigh, she buried the feeling of loneliness that had become all to familiar the past few weeks, and turned back towards the center of the city. It was no less than she deserved – the loneliness – a bed of her own making. She had more friends now, here, than she would ever be able to total up out of her entire lifespan. But the one person who mattered most, was the one who left her feeling more alone than she'd thought she could ever feel.

She had no idea how to make it better.

She had no idea how to apologize.

She had no idea how to do anything but keep moving forward.

Because looking back made her heart ache.

She was halfway across the wind-tunnel section when the first cramp hit. Wincing, she frowned to herself and slowed slightly, adjusting her stride. Almost immediately a second cramp burst across her lower torso and she staggered. Inhaling sharply, she stopped, bending to dig her fingers into her sides. Taking several deep breaths, she steadied her heartbeat, and allowed herself to straighten up.

Shaking her head with a promise to take it easy on the way back, she took two steps forward, and cried out as a burning pain ripped through her lower abdomen. Under a sharpness that felt as though something was clawing her insides out through her navel, she grabbed for her stomach. Her knees stung with the force of suddenly meeting the cold, hard surface of the pier.

She reached for her earpiece, but nausea gargled bile into the back of her throat and she gagged. Another stabbing wave split her torso and she crumpled forward, landing hard on the front of her left shoulder, white lacing her vision as her temple cracked into the ground.

Grey light blurred as the world spun around her, clouds fading into blackness as she heard her name blowing away in the wind.

* * *

Ronon was half a mile away, releasing his own inner demons to the feel of the wind on his face, when he caught sight of the blond ponytail bouncing across the walkway that intersected his. At that distance it could have been anyone – but he knew it was her with a certainty that ached. He would always know it was her. He would always sense her before she appeared, and scent her after she'd gone.

It was his curse.

To have a taste of what could be, only to lose it to what almost was.

He debated going a different way, but the wind robbed him of his free will by teasing his nostrils with a whisper of vanilla. Her signature scent.

He exited the lower level corridor, making the last turn before heading out across the windy surface and back to the main towers. He fell into step behind her, his own relentless pace quickly closing the gap between them.

He watched her stumble, immediately thinking she'd caught an edge. Then she staggered, and his mind changed to cramp.

She pushed herself too hard. She pushed at everything to hard.

But when she dropped to her knees he knew instantly something was wrong. She bent in around herself, her cry echoing across the landing like a solitary ocean bird.

His legs moved, pushed, pumped, closing the gap – yards shortening to feet – when she stiffened and convulsed, her body pitching forward and slamming into to the deck.

She didn't move.

* * *

The nurses weren't talking.

The doctor's weren't talking.

The only words that were continuously repeated – too much for Ronon's liking – were cyst and ovaries. Sheppard said at that point, it was too personal to pursue, but Ronon saw something hovering on the edges when the doctor's spoke, a sideways glance that shouldn't be there, an added blink.

There was more to it.

They all said she was fine – she would be just fine – but the real details were being kept to a need to know.

And apparently, _he_ didn't need to know.

She was awake. She would be released in a day or two. Marie had at least told him that much, but he'd already figured that out for himself - catching glimpses into the private room she'd sequestered for herself, watching from the shadows. Needing to see her for himself.

She was conscious and talking, but she was refusing visitors.

_All_ visitors.

Teyla.

Laura.

Even McKay.

It ate at him.

A two day stint off world with Sheppard cleared his mind enough that he'd at least been able to concentrate on something other than her. But the minute he stepped over the threshold and into the city, it all came crashing back down around him.

Sheppard asked first. Ronon didn't need to worry about finding a subtle way of wording it, the Colonel just asked Woolsey outright.

She was out of the infirmary and on a few days mandatory rest before returning to work at the end of the week. Yet there was still very little word about what ailed her. Jennifer still refused to admit anyone, except Teyla and Laura now, but both women would give him nothing other than general platitudes.

So he ran.

He sparred.

He lost track of the minutes as they bled into hours, passing with another two days. Tomorrow she'd return to her shift, and tomorrow he'd at least be able to see for himself that she was fine.

* * *

It was late when his chime announced a visitor – late by even his standards.

Blinking at his door, he hesitated, raising his head off his arms and sitting up. He waited for it to sound a second time, but heard nothing. Lifting himself off the bed, he padded barefoot to the door, yanking his shirt off the chair where he'd tossed it, pulling it down over his head.

He swiped the access panel, sliding the door open with a soft hiss.

Ronon wasn't sure who he was expecting, Sheppard most likely, but to see Jennifer, standing alone in the dimly lit hallway, threw his heart an extra beat.

Wearing a dark green sweater over blue jeans, her hair hung loosely over her shoulders, haloed by the lantern hanging on the wall behind her. She stood stiffly, her hands clutched in front of her, fingers twisting as she rubbed the back of her left hand with her right thumb. The bruised scrape on her forehead where she knocked herself out on the pier was dull and fading - peeking out from beneath her bangs as she moved her head. Dropping her arms to her side, she shifted her weight, her eyes landing only briefly on his before darting around.

"Did…" She cleared her throat. "Did I wake you?" She shook her head before he could answer. "I did, didn't I? It's really late. I'm sorry." She turned away.

"Jennifer." He stepped quickly around her, blocking her path before she could retreat. "It's okay."

She glanced up at him, and again he noticed she could barely meet his gaze.

"Are you okay?" He finally had the presence of mind to ask.

She nodded, looking around the hallway.

Ronon shook his head, kicking himself. She'd been avoiding everyone. She obviously wanted privacy. "Do you want to come in?"

She tilted her head to look up at him, her lower lip firmly gripped between her front teeth. In the few seconds she let him see her eyes, he saw something that made his chest clench.

Pain.

Not physical pain. But the raw, emotional kind.

And layered just below it, was fear.

Pain at an injury he understood.

But not fear.

He waited for her answer – knowing he'd let her go if he had to.

But she stood in front of him, silence stretching with an agonizing slowness until she finally nodded.

"I just…" He watched her throat constrict as she swallowed, and pursed her lips, her tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip, still red from her teeth. "It'll just take a minute."

He stepped back and held his arm out. She walked around him, moving quickly into his room. He let the door close and moved past her, leaving her standing just inside the doorway.

"You should sit." He swiped a collection of knives off the seat of a chair and dropped them onto a nearby table, clearing it for her.

"I'm okay." She'd returned to chewing her lower lip.

"Jennifer." He stepped closer, leaving a few feet of personal space before stopping in front of her. "What's wrong?"

Her chest hitched and caught, and she inhaled sharply. Staring at a spot on his shoulder, her fingers twisted around themselves and she shifted her weight.

"What…" She started to smile, then let it fall. Her chin dropped, and she shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "I have absolutely no idea where to start."

"Try the beginning."

When she looked up, the moisture in her eyes crushed his heart. He immediately leaned closer, but she stepped away.

"Ronon…" She held up her hand, palm out, and he stopped, frozen.

He held his breath, waiting, wondering, wanting to know who or what caused her such pain. Needing an outlet. Someone to hurt in return. He felt his body tensing, anger boiling up through his lower abdomen.

"Do you understand what... happened to me? Out there. On the pier?"

He nodded. "Marie explained it."

Jen inhaled, then shrugged. "She lied."

Ronon blinked. "She lied?"

"I asked her to. I asked them all to. They agreed to help me… keep this… quiet."

"Keep _what_ quiet?" The anger that flowed through him was quickly chilled beneath a more powerful flash of fear.

"Ronon…" She swiped her knuckle quickly under her right eye. "I…" She turned her head to the side, and crossed her arms tightly around her stomach. "I had a miscarriage."

He recognized the word.

But he didn't recognize it coming from her lips.

"A… miscarriage." It even sounded wrong to his own ears.

She nodded, her face still averted. "I didn't even… I didn't know… I didn't know I was even pregnant." She smiled sadly and glanced sideways at him through her bangs.

"Pregnant." He repeated, his room feeling just a little bit warmer. A little bit smaller.

Her chin dropped towards the floor. "Yeah. Some doctor I make, huh."

Ronon shook his head, not knowing how to answer. _If_ he should answer. He started to lean closer, towards her, towards the hurt and the pain, then checked himself and took a preventative step back. She was telling him she was pregnant – _had_ been pregnant – with McKay's child, obviously. But why? Out of courtesy?

_He didn't want that kind of courtesy, damn it._

She'd almost had a child – out of McKay. He already knew he wasn't her choice. Why did she feel the need to rub it in? It wasn't enough he had to see them together, he had to know she'd slept with him, made love to him, gotten pregnant from him, too?

"Why tell me?" He blurted out, not bothering to hide the anger that coursed out through his veins.

Jennifer looked up, her emotions flickering across her face - startled, confused, hurt. "I…" She blinked, her brow furrowed. She shook her head and took a step back, banging her heel into his closed door. Staring at a point on the floor at his feet, she let out a half-laugh and licked her bottom lip. "I guess I just… thought… you deserved to know, is all."

"Why?" He heard himself ask. _Let it go_, he mentally kicked himself. _You had your chance. You lost._

Jennifer heard the anger in his tone. She didn't need to see his face to understand. Her heart ached to know this is what it had come down too. Her pain. His anger.

Yet she couldn't fault him for it.

Not for this.

Never for this.

She'd done her piece. She'd told him. Five days of warring with herself to just do it – and she had. Promise to herself now over, she could leave. She should leave. Just let it go. Let it all go. It was over and she'd lost.

She'd lost everything.

Things she never even realized she had, she wanted, until five days ago.

Frantically swiping at her cheeks she lifted her face but refused to look at him. "He…" _would have been strong and brave…_ "She…" _would have been smart and beautiful…_ "Would have been yours." She finished with a whisper that quickly disappeared into the stillness.

She covered her mouth with her hand to hold back the sob perched on the tip of her tongue. She chanced a glance, hoping for something, anything, but getting nothing but stunned silence as he stood in the middle of his room staring at her.

It was nothing less than she deserved.

She bit her lip and turned towards the door access.

"McKay?" His growl cut the quiet so sharply it startled her.

She lowered her forehead, pressing it to the cold metal of the door frame. _McKay_. It was always about Rodney with Ronon these days. She knew that's what he'd think. But she _had_ hoped - prayed, foolishly - they would some day get past it.

She shouldn't have come.

She shouldn't have said anything.

But he deserved to know.

She straightened and half turned, catching him out of the corner of her eye. She could feel the anger radiating off him – projecting like a heat source. She wanted to touch it, curl into it, hide beneath it like a blanket, use it to keep the rest of the world away.

But it wasn't hers to have.

Not any more.

She shook her head, her fingers hovering beside the access panel. "I didn't sleep with Rodney, Ronon. I'm not…" She exhaled sharply, turning to face the door. "I'm not sleeping with anyone."

She dropped her hand and the door swung open, offering her escape. Stepping forward, she turned her head, glancing at him quickly over her shoulder. He still hadn't moved – but something in his eyes drove into her and she momentarily lost her breath.

"Only you." She exhaled. "There was… is… only you."

Turning away, she made her escape into the dim light of the hallway, the echoing click of the closing door chasing her with finality.


	2. Chapter 2

_Yours._

_Only you _and_ yours. _

The trio of words clambered around and around and around in Ronon's head, making him dizzy.

He didn't know how long he'd stood staring at his closed door before shock kicked in, and he dropped into the vacant chair beside him.

One night.

They'd shared one night.

One night where they'd both promised no regrets, no tomorrows. One night to think of what could be, what might be, then leave everything behind when the sun awoke. Possibilities and pleasures. One night he'd blocked out and worked to forget, pushed away and buried.

Now… now her confession left him knowing that with that one night, they'd done something he would never… _could_ never… forget.

A life.

They'd created a _life_.

A life – that like so much else in this galaxy – was now lost. Gone forever. Gone and forgotten.

No.

Never forgotten.

He would never forget.

_Only you._

He dropped his face into his hands. An ache twisted through his heart in a place he'd though long dead. Family. A family? _His_ family. Something he'd never see again. Never have for his own. Never know. It had never been an option. Never been anything other than something someone _else_ would have. Could have.

Her admission had broken a hole in a wall he'd built up through years of solitude. A wall he'd used to imprison any thoughts of future and family. A baby.

Pregnant.

She'd been pregnant.

A child?

No. Not just any child.

_His _child_._

She'd carried… she'd lost…

And he'd let her go. Let her walk away. The pain she felt had been evident on her face. Pain and fear.

She carried the burden alone.

He stood abruptly.

He had to find her.

* * *

The city was dark beneath her feet. Sleeping peacefully under a speckled blanket of bright stars. Darkness held firm, but it would lose its grip soon with the rising sun. The golden lights that still shone brightly, reflected off the calm roll of the sea far below. From the angle of the tower roof she could see the entire city spread out below her like a giant star. It was beautiful. Peaceful.

It helped her think.

If she could see the city then she could remember where she was. And where she wasn't. This wasn't Earth. She wasn't just a woman with boy trouble. She wasn't a woman who could ill afford to let her emotions cloud her judgment. She could _not_ just breakdown and cry. Hide in her room for days on end. Drown her sorrows in a bottle of rum. She couldn't afford to forget who she was. Where she was. Even for a little while. No, she needed to be on her game. To be clear of mind. In this place, this galaxy, weakness was not an option.

What happened could have happened to anyone – any woman – not just her. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't known. There was nothing she could have done any differently. It just wasn't meant to be.

The words and explanations she would have given any patient in a similar situation sounded hollow and wrong inside her head.

_A baby._

Her hands automatically dropped to her lower abdomen.

She'd never thought of having a baby. We'll, she'd thought about it – what woman hadn't? But she'd never considered it ever being… well, a possibility. A truth. A real, live human being growing inside her. A child.

_His_ child.

She'd done nothing but think about it for the past four days. Think about a future she wasn't going to see. With a man she could never have. A man who'd seen so much. Who deserved so much more. In a world that gave him nothing but pain she'd carried his hope, his future.

For seven weeks she'd carried his child.

Seven weeks.

And she hadn't had the slightest idea.

How could she – she of all people – not known?! How could she have not counted? Not tracked? She'd become so buried in her work, fighting to appear happy, fighting to appear normal, so lost in pretending, she hadn't noticed she'd missed her cycle. Birth control was never one hundred percent. She should know that. She should have known better. But she didn't. She hadn't.

And now… now it was too late.

A burn kicked up into her eyes and she shook her head, blinking furiously. She hadn't cried yet – she most certainly wasn't going to start now. She stared down at her toes, her stomach rolling as she angled her chin and peered over the edge, welcoming the distraction as she contemplated just how far up she was. She almost whistled, her heart skipping with the sharp drop. God that was a long way down. She let the fear of falling ride up through her veins. Fear helped her forget, and forgetting was good.

She crossed her arms against the chill that suddenly shivered across her skin and leaned back from the edge.

Heat scored her waist and she screamed, fearing the worst but instead of falling, she was yanked backwards against a solid chest and dragged roughly back to the center of the rooftop. Hands griped her waist and lifted her quickly over the railing on the central walkway, depositing her roughly onto the catwalk.

"Ronon." She gasped, her heart scattering beneath the adrenaline that rushed through her body. She staggered when he released his hold but he spun her around, his hand gripping her upper arm tightly.

"That is not the answer!" He growled, looming above her like a dark shadow, his fingers digging into her flesh. He pointed towards the edge where she'd been standing.

She clamped her hand over his, her voice stuttering while she pressed her palm over the back of his hand. She shook her head furiously, understanding what he must have thought. "Oh. I… No… No, Ronon… I wasn't going to… Good lord, no." She insisted. "I just… I was just… looking…"

"Looking." He growled.

She nodded furiously.

"And what if you'd… slipped?" He turned his head, his shadow dropping down around her, blocking out the faint glow cast from the lights above on the tower spire. She stared up into his face, seeing nothing through the darkness but his silhouette.

"I… wasn't really thinking about… I just…" She shook her head and let the explanation die.

A moment passed before he released her and stepped back, allowing the pale light to fall around her once again.

"What…" She shook her head, rubbing her upper arm. "What are you doing-"

"Looking for you." He answered before she could finish.

"For me?" Her brow furrowed as her mind shuffled through a stack of options. She could feel his emotions riding across the dark of night. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. She didn't need to see his face to know he was fighting – warring with himself. It was in the way he stood. His fists clenched. The wide stance. The set of his shoulders.

If he'd come to yell… to curse… to scream and shout, she'd let him. She had to let him. If it was all she could give him back, then she'd stand here and let him say it.

But he didn't speak.

He didn't move.

He just stood there, staring.

She hesitated. "Ronon?"

"Why?" He finally asked, the single word driving a nail through her heart.

She blinked and swallowed. "Why what?" She managed to croak out.

When he didn't answer, she chose from the questions beating their wings inside her own mind. The ones she herself had come up here to seek the answers to.

"Why did this happen? Why didn't I know? Why now? Why you? Why not Rodney? Why did I leave?" She shrugged with an exasperated sigh, averting her face and swiping a tear away with her fingertips. "Why did I… push you away?"

He stood silently, staring at her, unmoving.

"Because." She shook her head, swallowing down the urge to cry. Voicing the questions aloud brought her worry, her confusion, her fears, all bubbling to the surface. She fought to hide the emotions, the sadness, the what if's and what could have been, but they were too close to the top to be pushed away.

_He _was too close.

"Because." She repeated… her voice cracking. She clutched the base of her throat, willing her emotions to go back to where she'd locked them. But it was too late. He'd opened the door and she couldn't hold it back any more. Pain burst up and squeezed her heart. "Because I'm not strong enough." She shook her head, her voice a soft sob. "I'm not strong enough." She repeated, louder, tears falling freely.

She didn't care. She didn't care any more. She couldn't take it back. Could never take it back. Could never fix what she'd broken.

"I don't… I can't…" Unable to keep herself straight, she let the horror and sadness and pain and loss rip itself up through her abdomen. "I wasn't strong enough…" she shook her head, doubling over with the phantom pain. "I couldn't… even carry your child… seven weeks… I wasn't… Oh god, Ronon… I'm sorry, I'm sorry… I didn't know… I didn't know!"

The agony behind her words shattered any barrier he'd ever constructed around his heart like a piece of fragile glass. It blew apart, falling into a thousand tiny shards, slicing through him.

Her knees gave way, but this time he was there to catch her as she fell.

Shrinking in on herself, she cowered into a ball, knees to her chest, face buried, arms folding across her legs, fighting to make herself as small as possible. Sitting on the platform, he could do nothing but wrap himself around her – his legs, his arms, curling her in against him, protecting her, hiding her, sheltering her. Wracking sobs shook her body, bringing a sharp burn to his own eyes.

He held her tightly, waiting beneath the shifting sky as it moved slowly from its inky blackness into a lighter shade, shapes becoming visible as the night lost it's battle with the approaching dawn. Her sobs eventually lessened into sniffles, then calmed into a soft succession of hiccups.

"Ronon, I'm so, so sorry…" she sniffed, turning her head to the side.

"No." He shook his head, clearing his throat. "Don't."

"But…"

"No." He said firmly. "I will accept no apologies, Jennifer." He felt her stiffen and draw away, but he held her tightly, preventing her from moving anywhere. "Would you blame another for what happened?"

She sniffed, and shook her head.

"And I don't blame you."

"How can you not…"

"You are not thinking clearly." He argued softly. "It's understandable. But this is not – nor will it ever be – your fault."

"It feels like it is."

"Well, it's not."

"It hurts."

He tightened his arms around her, his chest aching with understanding. "I know." He placed his cheek against the top of her head. "I know."

"Can you ever forgive me?" She whispered, her voice catching.

"Jennifer." He shifted, angling his head down so he could see her face but she curled herself tighter, hiding. "There is nothing to forgive."

"But…"

"Enough." He ordered, giving her a sharp squeeze. "You are blaming yourself for something you had no control over."

"You don't know that…" She shook her head. "What if I'd-"

"What if you'd done everything right and it still happened?" He asked softly.

"I would have done _everything_…" She whispered, tightening her body further into a ball. "If I'd known… Anything."

Ronon swallowed against the understanding that he would have done just about anything himself… if he'd known. He nodded against the top of her head, finding no words that would even begin to explain… or comfort.

"I know…" She sniffed sadly. "I know in my head… but my heart…" Her head rocked slowly back and forth. "My heart… doesn't understand why. I didn't even know. How can something I didn't even know about… hurt… so much?"

He shook his head, feeling the twist in his own heart. "I don't know." He answered honestly.

"I can't… I can't stop thinking about it."

"I don't think anyone would expect you to."

"Even you?" She whispered, her body stilling.

"Even me."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of this."

"Jennifer…" He warned softly.

"But I am…" She insisted.

"I know." He kissed the top of her head. "I know."

Under the faint lights of the tower beacon on the spire above, they sat it silence, each lost to their own thoughts, accompanied only by the distant sound of the ocean far below.

"I can't stop wondering…" She finally broke the stillness, releasing the grip on her legs and sagging against him.

"About?"

"If I hadn't pushed you away…"

"Yes, about that." He rested his chin on the top of her head, adjusting his arms with her new position. Half of him wanted the answer, and half of him wanted to go on being ignorant. What was that Earth saying? What you didn't know wouldn't hurt you?

No. That wasn't right.

He _hadn't_ known about the baby, and somehow it hurt much more than he could have ever considered. _Baby_. Even the word sounded so strange and unfamiliar in his mind. He shook his head, breaking off the tangent when she spoke again.

"It's not what you think." She mumbled against his chest, her fingers twisting against the front of his shirt.

"And just what _do_ I think?" He frowned, forgetting what he was supposed to be thinking about.

She held her breath, then let it out with a shrug. "I don't know." Her upper body jerked with a soft hiccup then she shook her head. "What… what do you think?"

He snorted softly, fighting his own confusion. "I think…" He paused, finding the first of his many questions. "You're afraid of something. Or… someone. And I think… you need to tell me who… and why."


	3. Chapter 3

_You're afraid of something… or someone…_

Ronon's statement hung in the air, unanswered, as Jen huddled against him, her breathing staggered. Inhaling, holding, exhaling. Her fingers flittered nervously with the material of his shirt. Picking, twisting, smoothing.

"I'm not afraid of you, Ronon Dex." She finally whispered. "Not the way you think."

"That still means you are afraid of me."

She sighed and shook her head. "On Sateda…" She straightened slightly, placing her forehead against the side of his neck. "Your rank. Specialist. It was pretty high up there."

He wondered if her question had a point, or if it was a change of topic, but answered regardless. "Roughly equivalent to Sheppard."

"Could a woman hold that rank?"

He shrugged. "If they qualified."

"Did you know any?"

"A few."

"And did they have to prove themselves?"

"Prove?"

"Do… more." She frowned. "Be better, stronger, smarter. Constantly show themselves just as good as the men of equal rank?"

"Ah." He nodded, understanding finally drawing him her answer. He angled his head. "We didn't have time for infighting. If you made rank, you made rank. Wraith don't care who's in charge."

"It's different on Earth." She shook her head. "Colonel Carter is a rare appointment. So's Major Teldy. They try to tell you it's not, but it is a man's world. Women are expected to be twice as fast, twice as strong, twice as smart, just to do the same job." She shifted again, this time to lean forward, resting her chin over his upper arm. "I have spent my entire life… _fighting_ to show people that I'm just as… competent. Just as smart. Just as strong. And what do I get in return? Take time to make a proper diagnosis and I'm not worthy of the position. Take a day off and I'm in over my head. Get angry and I'm a bitch. Cry and I'm an over-emotional. I can't win for trying."

"But I'm afraid, Ronon." She finally admitted, her eyes locked on the lights of a distant tower, the sky behind lightening with the approaching dawn. "I'm afraid I'm not strong enough." She sighed. "Strong enough to be here. To do this. To do… everything. Anything. They sense weakness, and they'll strike. Hard and fast."

"Who exactly are… _they_?"

She laughed quietly. "There's a five to one ratio of men to women here. Do you know how many women doctors I have on staff? One. The rest… men. It's a military operation with a female CMO. I'm too young. I don't have the ATA gene. And I nearly turned half the city into a hive ship. _They_… are a lot of different people… and _they_ are waiting in the wings for me to fail."

"Names."

"Why?" She snorted and lowered her head, resting her cheek against his forearm. "You can't shoot half the base."

"Try me…" He muttered.

She snorted, rolling her head to the other side to glance up at him through her bangs. "You would, wouldn't you?"

He shrugged, shifting his position to lean against the railing as she settled back against his chest.

After a moment of silence she sighed again. "Oh, Ronon. I'm so sorry."

"Hey." He grunted.

"Please…" She whispered, her fingers tracing a circle along the bare skin of his forearm. "I need… I need to say this."

He inhaled… then nodded, waiting.

"Rodney…" She began. "With Rodney… I can be the strong one. I can be CMO. I don't have to think about walking… or talking… or anything. I can be a bitch. I can be pushy. I can be exactly what is expected of me and I don't have to worry about anything."

"I make you worry?" Ronon couldn't help the ache that skipped across his chest as she pulled her legs in tighter, returning herself to the protective ball.

"No…" She hesitated, her voice muffled by her knees. "You… you make me forget."

"Forget." He frowned.

"Yes… forget."

She spoke softly, causing him to angle his head to make sure he could hear every word.

"You make me forget my name." She said softly. "Forget how to walk. How to talk. Forget I'm supposed to be strong. Forget I'm supposed to be… afraid."

"And that's… bad."

"No." She lifted her head to rest her chin on her knees. "It's not bad. It's terrifying."

"Terrifying."

A nod. "When I'm with you…" A shake. "You… you make me forget what it is I'm supposed to be afraid of in the first place." A shrug. "You're like this… big… blanket of warmth and protection and it would be so easy… so easy… to just wrap myself inside and hide from the world." A soft sob. "So easy…"

He gripped her tighter, shifting to keep her from curling into herself again.

"Would it really be so bad to let someone take care of you for a change?"

"No." She shook her head sadly. "No. It… it would be… so wonderful."

"Then why…?" He shook his head. "What are you so afraid of? Being human? Needing comfort? Letting someone else be… _strong enough…_ to watch over you once in a while?"

"You make it sound silly."

"It _is_ silly. No one expects you to do everything alone, Jennifer."

"This coming from the man who insists on doing _everything alone_?" She snorted softly, rolling her head to peer up at him through her bangs. Darkness was fading enough now she could see his features, more than just a shadowed outline as he leaned back against the railing, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

He stared down at her, his gaze direct. He had such beautiful eyes. Intense. They moved through so many different shades of green or hazel, depending on his mood. Would the baby have had his eyes? The though twisted though her stomach and she squeezed her eyes shut against the well of sadness.

"You okay?" He asked quietly.

"No." She shook her head, struggling to find the words to explain what she could barely understand herself. "I don't know if I'll ever be okay. Everything seems so… stupid now. So wrong." She whispered. "It made perfect sense in my mind weeks ago… but now…" She sighed. "Now I don't even know who I am anymore."

"_I_ know who you are." He pulled her back so she was once again leaning against his chest.

"Then someday you're going to have to explain it to me." She rocked her head back and forth beneath his chin. "I don't feel like me anymore. And I don't think I like who I've become." And with that she burst into tears again.

Ronon rocked with her, and this time the sobs abated quickly, with a sniff and furious swiping of her cheeks with her sleeve. "I'm sorry." She mumbled. "Apparently I'm feeling a little um… emotional."

"Apparently." He smiled when she glanced up at him.

Jen snorted and sniffed, swallowed and wiped her eyes. She lowered her head and turned her face towards the distant horizon, where the darkness was changing into a lighter gray. Jen felt Ronon's breath catch, then a sharp exhale before he asked the question that had obviously just occurred to him, his arms tensing around her. Her fingers tightened in his shirtfront while she waited.

"You're okay… aren't you? I mean…" he hesitated, the tone of his voice low. Worried. "Physically?"

Jen took a deep breath, understanding his question. "Yeah." She nodded. "I'm… okay. I should still be able to… to… have a child. Someday." She smiled sadly to herself, when his body relaxed with her admission.

He worried so much.

And she'd treated him so badly.

"I wish I knew how to take it all back. Do it over again." She whispered, more to herself than to him, but he answered anyway.

"I may not know as much about science," He said softly. "But even _I_ am pretty sure time-travel is a bad idea."

Jen snorted. "Probably." Then she shrugged. "But I can still wish."

"You shouldn't dwell in the past, Jennifer." He tipped his head back, staring up at the quickly disappearing stars. "It won't change your future. It will only hurt your present."

"I've hurt your present…" She burrowed her face against the front of his shirt. "Haven't I?"

Ronon hesitated. Truthfully… her rejection had hurt. Especially coming with such swiftness. It was so unexpected. She'd pushed him away, and turned to McKay. Knowing now, knowing the why, made it a little easier to understand, but no easier to stomach. And then her admission tonight. He wasn't sure how he was feeling about that. Sad at the loss, the unknown, the possibility, certainly. But blaming? No.

"It's okay." She whispered, and he felt her pulling away. "I don't need an answer."

"Losing…" he paused, swallowing around the words, letting her sit up, but not letting her go. "Losing a baby is not something I could _ever_ fault you for."

"How can you not? _I_ blame me."

"Why?"

"Why?" She repeated.

He nodded. "Why do you blame yourself?"

"Because I should have known." She answered, hunching her shoulders. "Of all people, I should have known."

"And would knowing have made the difference?"

She bit her lip. "Maybe."

"Maybe." He frowned. "Is that Jennifer speaking, or Doctor Keller?"

She sighed and shook her head, unwilling to answer.

He tried a different tactic. "What would you tell a patient?"

She bit her lip. "That most miscarriages happen in the first 13 weeks."

"And…" He prompted.

"Ten to twenty five percent of all first pregnancies end in miscarriage."

"And would you tell them it was their fault?"

"No." She frowned.

"And would you blame them for not knowing?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Then…"

"But…"

"No." He interrupted. "If all that is true, then why would these explanations not apply to you?"

She shrugged again. "Because I'm…"

"Special? Different? Not applicable to the laws of science?"

"Applicable to the laws of science?" Jen blinked, bit her lip, then started to smile sadly. "Now who's been spending too much time with Rodney." She whispered, giving him a half smile.

He shook his head quickly and shrugged. When she started to laugh, he couldn't help but smile in return, letting her come back towards him, her arms pulling away from her own torso to wrap tightly around his middle.

She buried her face against the side of his neck, stilled then sighed. "Oh, Ronon. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."

"What do you want to do?" He chanced to ask.

"I don't want to be afraid any more."

"Then don't."

"Easy for you to say." She snorted.

"No." He shook his head, rubbing his chin across the top of her head. "It's not easy. To do _or_ say."

"And if I can't?"

"You can."

"How?"

"With help."

"Is that an offer?" She asked, her voice barely audible.

"Do you want it to be?"

The barest of nods.

"Then it will be."

"Okay." She whispered, and he felt her chest hitch before her breathing settled once again. "You're an amazing man, Ronon Dex." She tightened her arms and burrowed further into his chest. "Don't ever let anyone tell you differently."

"Even you?" He snorted.

She nodded furiously. "Especially me."

They sat in silence, watching while the breaking morning lightened the sky into a rosy hue.

It wasn't long after the sun broke the horizon that Jen fell asleep, blanketed in the strength and warmth of the man who, for seven unknown weeks, had been the father of her child. It would hurt… it would always hurt… but she slept knowing she wasn't alone.

And for the time being, she wasn't afraid.

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END

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_A/N Thanks to everyone for coming along on this little journey with me. I know this was not an easy topic for some, but it was not without purpose. It was something I had to get out of my system. For Mel. Hugs and kisses my dear. - Nika_


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